


Some Day

by Akikofuma



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, I suck at tagging, Insecure Daryl, Kinda canon-ish I guess, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Sappy, set between season 3 and 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8828176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akikofuma/pseuds/Akikofuma
Summary: Just a sappy little one-shot. Daryl is in love with Rick, but doesn't think he'd ever have a chance. This is a gift for the absolutely amazing Bennyhatter, who makes my life so much better with amazing Rickyl fanfiction!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bennyhatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/gifts).



Daryl stood in the prison yard, observing the walkers crowding up against the fences, wondering how the hell they were going to manage this recent uptake in dead bodies, when a very familiar voice called out to him. 

“Daryl.” 

Rick. He'd recognize the man's voice anywhere, under any given circumstances. The low timber would always resonate deeply within the hunter, making him shiver. The deputy had made his way over to the tracker, giving him a crooked smile.

“What'cha wan', Rick?” 

“Jus' wonderin' what yer thinking about so hard.” The older man replied, moving to stand beside Daryl, probably to try and see what the tracker was seeing. “Those are gettin' ta be a real problem.” 

“Yea.” Was all the hunter could say in reply. Rick was close now, so close that all Daryl would have to do was lean to the side ever so slightly, and they'd be touching, shoulders bumping, hands brushing.. God, if only he could.. 

“Gonna have to come up with something to solve this.” Rick continued, glancing at the archer. Again, the only response he received was a nod, Daryl didn't trust himself to speak, not when he could _smell_ Rick, sweat and dirt mixed with Ricks own scent. The archer wanted so badly to lean over, lick at the deputy's neck, see if he tasted as amazing as his scent suggested. But of course he didn't, because he was too much of a coward to make a move on his best friend, the man he trusted with his life, with anything, really.

“Got any ideas?” The deputy asked, and Daryl grunted a quiet 'No', because how was he supposed to come up with anything useful when all he could do was keep his body still, forcing himself not to throw Rick against a wall, pin him there with his body, bite at his neck and shoulders, beg to be taken.. Fuck. Teeth grinding, the tracker tried his hardest to chase away those thoughts, afraid that somehow, Rick would be able to tell, would find out his secret, and shove him away. 

He had no illusions. Rick was straight, and even if he hadn't been, all Daryl was to the deputy was a friend. A good friend, maybe, but still just that. A friend. He had tried so hard not to let these feelings grow, to suffocate them before they became stronger and started to suffocate him. But it had been no use. Rick had been everywhere, and what had started out as a crush was now full blown love. Unrequited love, but still love. And here he was now, standing right beside the man he desired more than anything ever before, unable to do a single fucking thing.

“Somethin' else on your mind?” The question startled Daryl, so deep in thought he had almost forgotten he was being spoken to. All he wanted to say was; _You. Always thinkin' about you. Wan' ya ta love me, take me, fill me, make me whole again. Love you so much._ Of course, he said none of that.

“Jus' tired.” The archer gruffed out, pulling another cigarette from his pack, lighting it and inhaling deeply. He didn't look at Rick, to see if his excuse had been accepted as truth, because it didn't matter. Rick wouldn't push him. He'd leave Daryl to figure things out for himself, or ask for help. Because the deputy knew that sometimes, it was best to leave the archer to his thoughts. 

Daryl couldn't decide if he loved or hated Rick for it right that moment. Maybe if Rick pushed further, he'd find out, and then, by some kind of miracle, feel the same way as Daryl did. But if Rick didn't return the archers feelings, if this was truly completely one sided, and Rick _knew_ , Daryl would never be able to look him in the eyes again. It was too embarrassing, downright fucking dreadful, and the worst part was that he just knew Rick would be kind about it. He'd tell Daryl he was honored, and flattered, and that he cared for him a great deal, just not in the way Daryl did. They were friends, _brothers_ , and there was nothing that could change that. Daryl would pull back, ashamed of himself, and Rick would try and fix things between them, and fail, because there was nothing he could do to stop the self-loathing the archer felt at screwing up the only good thing he'd ever had by doing something so _stupid_ as falling in love. 

“Ya wan' me ta take yer shift in the watch tower tonight? Could get some sleep.” The deputy offered, and once more Daryl was torn between love and hate. He loved Rick so much for being so kind, so caring, willing to sacrifice the little sleep he got to give Daryl a chance at a few hours of rest. And at the same time, he hated the deputy for being so damn _perfect_ , for making the archer fall for him a little bit more every single day that went by, all the while being completely unattainable. 

“Nah, 's fine.” He replied, hoping his voice didn't betray what he was feeling, taking another long drag of his cigarette, filling his lungs with the smoke, allowing it to escape through parted lips “Like the quiet up there. 'specially at night.”

“Ya like the quiet, or the fact that you don't have people crowding ya every minute yer inside the prison?” Rick teased, gently nudging the archers side with his elbow. “Don' pretend ya don' notice, yer everyone's hero here.”

“Bullshit.” Daryl huffed, unable to stop the twitch of lips. “They're jus' glad they got a bed an' food, 's all.” 

“Which you gave them.” Rick replied quietly, once more glancing at Daryl.

“Wouldn'a been able ta without ya. Ya pushed us all back then, kept us goin'. Wouldn'a found this place if ya hadn' been in charge. An' then the whole Governor thin'.” The snort Rick gave in reply irked Daryl. The deputy didn't believe him. Didn't believe he'd been the one to keep them all alive and fed. “'s true. If it weren' fer what ya did, we all would'a been gone long ago.”

“Think ya would've done fine without me. Yer strong, Daryl. Ya would'a kept the group strong if I hadn' been there.” Rick sighed, shaking his head. “Made so many mistakes. Lost so many people. T-Dog an' Andria. Lori.” 

“That wasn' yer fault, Rick.” Daryl replied, trying so hard to make Rick believe him, to see what the archer had seen the minute they had first met. It was painful, to see the deputy thinking so little of himself, when all Daryl could think was how amazing the other man was. “Did everythin' ya could. Always have. Ya wen' back fer Merle with me ain't no one else woulda done that. Ya tried ta make peace with the Governor, tried ta work things out. Took in the people from Woodberry.”

“Thanks, Daryl.” Rick was smiling at him again, but this smile was tainted with sorrow, with the pain of losing people, the guilt the man carried around with him every minute of the day. “Means a lot coming from ya.”

“Whadda ya mea, comin' from me?” Why would it matter if he was the one to tell the truth? Everyone agreed with him, knew that it had been Rick that saved them time and time again. So why would Rick care if he was the one that said it?

“'cause I trust ya.” Rick answered, his gaze firmly set on the walkers at the fence, almost as if he wasn't willing to speak the words while looking at the archer. “More than everyone else. When ya say things like that, I gotta believe ya. Know you'd never lie ta me.”

“Shouldn'.” Daryl huffed, shaking his head. He'd been lying to Rick for what felt like an eternity now. Every friendly pat on the shoulder, or stomach, every rare smile he'd given the deputy had been a lie. While Rick had thought of them as gestures of friendship, they had been anything but. Daryl still felt shocks of pleasure ripple through him whenever his skin made contact with Ricks, made his stomach tie up in knots, his heart beat accelerate until it was almost painful. The deputy had no idea what he did to Daryl whenever he smiled at him, a true smile, that reached those beautiful blue eyes. “Got lots'a good people 'round.”

“I do.” Rick agreed quietly, and Daryl felt both relief and pain tugging at his insides. “Still. Don' trust 'em like I trust ya. Always had my back, Daryl, no matter what. Took care of Judy when I couldn'. Don' think I ever thanked ya fer that.”

“Don' have ta thank me. Ya'd do the same fer me.” Daryl gave a helpless shrug, the conversation turning into a much more intimate one than he had expected it to be, making him wish that he could just _say_ what he'd been keeping hidden for so long, to tell Rick and be done with it. To stop having to wonder if, maybe, somehow, Rick could want him in return. But he was a coward too afraid of the possibility of rejection. 

“Still, Daryl. I wan' ta.” Rick moved, slowly coming to stand in front of the archer, blocking his view of the fence, forcing him to look at the deputy. He never could resist staring into those baby blues whenever he had the chance, so enamored with the man it was pathetic. He didn't flinch away when Rick placed his broad hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. The touch, as always, caused a tremble to shoot up the archers spine, only barely able to keep the whimper threatening to leave him at bay. He could feel the heat of Ricks work roughened hand seep into his own, spreading like wild fire through out his entire body. “Thank ya, Daryl. Fer everythin' ya done. Can't tell ya how much I appreciate it. How much I appreciate havin' ya around.”

“Whatever.” Daryl huffed, slowly moving out of the deputy's touch, unable to stand another second of the atmosphere between them, of the skin to skin contact. He wanted to yell and beat the fuck out of Rick. Wanted to fall to his knees and beg Rick to have him, in any way he would. Wanted to kiss him until his lips were bruised and swollen, and still not stopping. “Gonna go check them snares. Don' wanna lose whatever we manage ta catch to the walkers.”

Rick, always graceful, gave the archer a smile and a nod, respecting the unspoken words between them. _Too close, too much, can't do this, have to back off, you have to._. 

“Be careful out there.” The deputy spoke softly, taking a step back from the archer to grant him the space he needed. Daryl replied with a grunt and a nod, shouldering the crossbow that had leaned against the wall behind him idly until now, making his way to the gates. 

One day, he would tell Rick. He had to. There was no way he could keep this going for much longer, could feel his resistance, his reluctance crumble under every glance of blue eyes, every kind word. And no matter how Rick felt, he'd stay beside him, would kill and die for him. Maybe things would be awkward, but he was never going to leave Ricks side, not until his body lay cold and unmoving on the floor. He had just stepped into the forest when he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and whispering “I love you, Rick.” into the silence surrounding him. Tested the words, the weight of them on his tongue, feeling an incredible weight being lifted from his chest. Just _saying_ the words was a relief. And some day, he would say them to Rick. He'd look into the deputy's eyes and confess his feelings; feelings he had guarded so closely. However Rick replied, he would deal with it then. He took a deep breath, releasing it through his nose, trying to calm his racing heart. 

“I love you.” He whispered, feeling another rush of relief. 

He'd tell Rick. Some day.

~~~~~*~~~~~~

Rick watched as Daryl walked away, admiring broad shoulders and tanned skin, cursing himself for not going through with his plan. If only there was the smallest chance he wasn't the only one so utterly in love it hurt, maybe it would have been easier. But a man as perfect as Daryl would never go for someone as broken as he was, and Rick was all too aware of it. And what was worse than that, was the fear of chasing Daryl away with his confession. That the archer would be disgusted , maybe even ashamed that a _guy_ was in love with him. That things would be too awkward to handle, and lead to the archer leaving their group after all.

He could still feel the warmth against his palm, bringing his fingertips to his lips, wondering if maybe he could taste the archer on his skin if he let his tongue flick out against his calloused fingers.. God, it was embarrassing, he felt like a love struck teen again, but there was no way to keep himself in check where the archer was concerned. He let his hand drop to his side again, knowing that if he really did get a taste of Daryl, there was no way to stop himself from getting _more_. He already spent most nights stroking along his hardened cock to the thoughts of Daryl, having to muffle his groans and whimpers against his fist. Adding fuel to the flame was not a wise decision.

“I love ya, Daryl.” Rick breathed, barely loud enough for himself to hear. “Love ya so damn much it hurts.”

One of these days, he'd be brave enough to actually say the words to Daryl. He'd stop being a pathetic coward and let Daryl know just how much he meant to the deputy, how much he wanted to kiss him senseless, have his lean body below his own, his to worship and caress, and sear his love into. 

He'd tell Daryl. Some day.


End file.
